Excerpt of The Sweetheart Crush by Miranda Liasson

“You call a kiss on the cheek when we were eighteen crossing a line?” Logan tried to whisper but it came out an octave higher than usual. He took a big breath to get himself in check. This was ancient history. Why was he letting her get under his skin?

Viv was up in his grill. “You were aiming for my lips, but you missed.” She paused. “But then, that’s what teenage boys do.”

Okaaay, if she wanted to spar, he was going to give it right back. But her elf hat was a little bit crooked, which took her threat level down a notch or two. “I kissed you on the cheek because you turned away.” There, the truth. He saw from her alarmed expression that he scored a direct hit. But somehow it didn’t give him any satisfaction. He crossed his arms. “Trust me, I wouldn’t miss now.”

He suddenly became aware that a dozen gray-haired ladies holding Christmas decorations were not only staring but also rummaging for their phones, searching the screens over their glasses…for their camera buttons? Surely, they weren’t going to take photos of this. Making a scene was absolutely not what he’d planned for his very first social media appearance.

Viv must have noticed, too, because she dropped her voice. “Well, things change.”

“And so do people,” he shot right back.

He caught her swallowing hard, the first indication that she was upset.

That tiny, barely noticeable gesture made all his bluster dissolve. Just like that. He never could stay angry with her for long.

Except for that final time. The anger and the heartache remained, unshakable, despite starting a new life at college. Despite trying to reinvent himself all over again as someone tougher—less likely to dump out his feelings and get hurt. More muscular, too, since she’d described him to her friends as undatable—he’s like my brother was the way she’d described him. Ouch.

He’d banished his skinny, nerdy, dweeby self forever, transforming into an aloof, mysterious, untouchable author. And he’d discovered his power over women, many of whom wanted him, even if Viv hadn’t.

Then he’d poured all his heartache straight into a book. Which happened to get published—by a tiny press but published nonetheless—and started his career.

A book where the villain was the town sweetheart, beloved by all. But in reality, she was spoiled, took advantage of her family, and enjoyed trampling on hearts. Oh yes, and she happened to be a merciless killer of anyone who had a crush on her.

Yes, he’d done that. What a fool.

He was startled back to reality by Viv looking him straight in the eye and saying…nothing.

He stared right back in a giant game of chicken, which they’d done often. Sometimes with food in their mouths, doing anything to make the other one blink. Except this time, it was different.

Their dare-me stare suddenly, startlingly, seemed to devolve into something completely different. Just for a flash, he saw something in her eyes that wasn’t obstinacy. She was no longer the bony girl who wore Converse high-tops and skinny jeans with an oversize Pink sweatshirt. Just as he wasn’t the nerdy boy with no muscles or confidence.

The anger seemed to dissipate around them like a glittering sunbeam. The air itself seemed to crackle as the whispers of the bus ladies faded away. His pulse throbbed at his neck, his throat was parched, and all he could see was the clear, sweet, lake-water blue of her eyes staring back at

him. Maybe even softening.

She’s beautiful.

No, no, no. He ripped his gaze away.

The intensity of whatever was happening buzzed through him, threatening to thaw the edges of his heart that he’d locked down long ago.